Chapter 151
151
It was about four weeks after Lars had ghosted me and a few days after Sean had talked to the hotel manager and confirmed I worked at MI6.
Sean was still angry at me about that. He refused to talk to me unless it was about work and he absolutely had to.
I was in headquarters for a briefing on an upcoming mission. I had taken over a temporary office to prepare but I couldn’t concentrate.
Instead, I found myself staring out the window towards St. James Park.
Where Lars had told me he loved me…
And where we’d fought before he disappeared.
There was a tap at the door. I looked over, startled –
And saw Alistair frowning.
Great.
Just what I need right now.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I said in a dull, very not-fine voice. “Why p>
“You look like you’re not sleeping. Or eating, for that matter p>
Again with the comments on my appearance.
“I’m fine,” I snapped.
He looked taken aback. “Alright – I was just concerned for you. If there’s anything I can do, I’m happy to help p>
Then he turned and left.
I immediately felt bad.
All of Alistair’s attempts in the past had been fairly innocent. More schoolboy than lecher.
And to be fair, Sean had told me I looked like shit just a few days ago when I went to Operations and –
Operations.
Three months before, Alistair had just been promoted from Assistant Director to Director of Operations in Europe.
If anyone could help me, it was him.
“Wait!” I called out as I jumped up from my chair.
He must have heard me because he turned back and met me at the door of the office.
“Yes?” he asked.
I hesitated.
Should I ask?
It wasn’t appropriate –
And it wasn’t kind, asking the man who had a crush on me to help me find my lover –
But I was desperate.
“…there is something…” I whispered. “But I can’t tell you here p>
Ironically enough, Alistair and I went to Nova Casa – the Portuguese restaurant where I’d blown him off – so we could talk in private. It was after the lunch crowd and before dinner, so we were two of a handful of people in the restaurant.
“First off, I’ll understand if you say no,” I said. “What I’m going to ask you is probably not entirely legal. It’s certainly not something that upper management would look on favorably p>
He smiled. “Are we talking blackmail, or smuggling heroin, or p>
“I’m serious, Alistair. I… I don’t have any right to ask you what I’m about to ask you p>
He smiled kindly. “Let me be the judge of that p>
“I’ve been dating someone for the last year. Lars Henriksson p>
Alistair nodded. “The Swedish fellow. If I recall correctly, we met here about a year ago p>
I immediately cringed as I remembered the whole We’re late to go have sex thing.
“Yes. Well… he’s disappeared p>
Alistair frowned. “‘Disappeared’ as in he stopped calling you, or ‘disappeared’ as in you should contact the police p>
“…I don’t know p>
“Oh,” Alistair said somberly. “I’m sorry to hear that p>
“Were you looking into him?” I asked. I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice.
“You mean, was Background looking into him to see if he was a honeypot p>
“…yes,” I said and cringed a little more.
In espionage, a honeypot was an attractive covert agent who entered into a sexual relationship with a target to compromise them – either to blackmail them for information or turn them into an asset for intel.
Usually, a female agent was the honeypot, and the male was the target.
Not in this case. Lars would have been the honeypot, and I would have been the target.
“We did,” Alistair said with an apologetic smile. “He checked out. Swedish Special Forces, excellent record p>
I ignored that Alistair’s Oh, the Swedish fellow bit had been a lie. He’d known exactly who I had been talking about.
However, I was more focused on the fact that Background – a division of Operations, which Alistair now headed up – had a file on Lars.
“Somehow, Lars got out of his military service a couple years early,” I said.
Alistair looked shocked. “…really p>
“Yes. He said he was working for a joint UK-Swedish military task force p>
“What UK-Swedish military task force p>
“He wouldn’t say p>
Alistair leaned back in his chair. “That’s… troubling p>
My desperation came out, and I tossed all dignity to the wind. “I know you’re not supposed to do this sort of thing, but could you please see if you can locate him p>
“Rachel…” Alistair said quietly.
“I know, I know – but this is wrecking me, Alistair. What you said back at headquarters was right – I can’t eat, I can’t sleep p>
Alistair looked at me for a long moment… then nodded. “I’ll see what I can do p>
I had to suppress a sob. “Oh god… thank you,” I said and grabbed his hand in gratitude.
He smiled gently and asked, “What else do you know about him? Anything that might help me trace his whereabouts would be helpful p>
“I know he originally came from Gothenburg, Sweden. He has a friend named Gunnar in Amsterdam – he was in Special Forces with Lars. I met him at Bagram p>
I winced as I said it… because I was admitting that I’d met Lars at Bagram, too.
But if Alistair had seen the file from Background, he already knew that.
“Do you have a last name on this Gunnar fellow?” he asked.
“No… he never told me p>
Alistair took my hand, which was already on his, and squeezed gently. “I’ll see what I can find p>
“Thank you.” I nearly broke down crying.
This was my one ray of hope since the dead end at the hotel – and it was a powerful ray of hope. If anyone could find Lars, it would be the Director of Operations of Europe’s most powerful intelligence agency.
Alistair smiled gently. “Anything I can do to help p>